“Surely you didn’t think I would give you access to any incriminating records from a prior lawsuit.”
“No, I didn’t. Not a self-righteous snot like you. Not if you knew. But you may recall, one of the first things Howard Hamel did after offering you this job was to arrange for the transfer of your files.”
Ben pressed his fingers against his temples. “That’s why your attitude toward me changed after I won the lawsuit.”
“Did you think I would shovel out that nauseating crap forever? It made me sick, believe me. But we needed your files. Or so we thought. Little did we know, you were such a stupid, unquestioning soldier, so eager to please your new masters, you won the case on your own. You didn’t need the medical files; you did it with some fancy legal footwork. No matter—the result, was the same. But as soon as the case was over, I assigned you to Harry and put you on the track the hell out of here.”
Ben could feel the bile churning in his stomach. “You’re disgusting, Crichton. And the worst thing is, you’re a perfect exemplar of this whole disgusting operation.”
Crichton made a tsking noise. “Sticks and stones.”
“I’ll be calling tomorrow as soon as the Board meeting ends. And I’ll be calling from the lobby of the Tulsa World.”
“I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”
“You may consider this my resignation.” Ben stood up and started toward the door.
“Fine. Of course, we’ll give you the customary two weeks.”
“Don’t bother,” Ben said, “I’ll leave today.”
54
“SERGEANT TOMLINSON, I’D LIKE you to meet my friends Ben Kincaid and Christina McCall.”
After Mike introduced them, Ben extended his hand to the lean figure lying on the St. John’s hospital bed. He still had tubes attached to his nose and mouth, the lower half of his body was in a cast, and dark circles underscored his eyes. His coloring was fairly normal, though, and he appeared strong. “Glad to meet you.”
“I want to congratulate you on that astonishing undercover work you did,” Ben said. “You showed a lot of promise as a homicide detective.” He nudged Mike. “Didn’t he, Mike?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. I suppose.”
“I should be congratulating you,” Tomlinson said. “I understand you found the creep after I let him get the best of me.”
“You saved a girl’s life by doing what you did.” Ben kept his inevitable tag to himself: saved her life for another three days.
“How are you feeling?” Christina asked.
“Much better,” Tomlinson replied. “Still sore in places. Legs ache when I try to move them. If you see my wife outside, though—don’t mention it to her. Karen tends to worry.”
Imagine that. “I saw your daughter outside,” Ben said. “She’s a cutie. How’s she taking it?”
“Oh, Kathleen is fine. Except she keeps wanting to crawl around on my cast and stitches. The doctor doesn’t approve.”
“I can imagine. So, Mike,” Ben said pointedly, “wasn’t there something you wanted to tell Sergeant Tomlinson?”
Tomlinson’s eyes perked up.
“What?” Mike said. “Oh…er…well…I guess I wanted to say…you did all right, Tomlinson.”
“Oh. Thank you, sir.”
“Not perfect, of course, but certainly not bad. You showed a lot of guts out there.”
“And that’s what you wanted to tell me?”
“Yes. That’s it.”
“Oh.” The gleam faded from his eyes. “Thank you.”
Mike turned away, then stopped. “Oh yeah. One other thing. I approved your transfer to Homicide.”
“You—” His eyes ballooned. A vivid smile spread across his face. “Why—thank you, sir. Thank you very much. Very very much. I won’t disappoint you, sir. I promise. Thank you very very much.”
Mike grinned. “My pleasure. You earned it, kid. Say, if you get bored, you can swap notes with Buddy, the guy who hid the girl. He’s in a room just down the hall. We found him in a warehouse off Eleventh. He was seriously torn up, lost a lot of blood, but I think he’s going to pull through.”
“That’s great,” Tomlinson said. “I’m glad someone else came through this alive.”
Yeah, Ben thought. Someone.
“Don’t kid yourself, Tomlinson. If Fielder hadn’t been stopped, he would’ve killed every name on the Kindergarten Club list. You’ve saved a lot of lives. Right, Ben?”
Ben was no longer standing by the bed. He was facing the window, staring out at the sun setting across the western horizon.
Mike saw something glistening in Ben’s hand. It was a golden necklace, a half-heart with a jagged tear down the center.
Mike and Christina exchanged a meaningful look. If there was something they could do, they’d do it. But there was nothing. It would just take time.
A nurse came through the door pushing a wheelchair.
“Who’s that for?” Mike asked.
“You,” she said briskly.
“Now wait a minute—”
“Don’t bother arguing, Mike.” Christina steered him into the chair. “You’ve been putting off these tests since you tangled with Fielder. For all we know, you could be hemorrhaging in a hundred different places.”
“But—but—”
“Save it.” She waved at the nurse. “Take him away.”
The nurse pivoted by the door. “Oh, Mr. Kincaid?”
Ben turned his head a fraction from the window.
“There’s someone outside who would like to speak to you.”
Ben returned his gaze to the window, then, a few moments later, left the hospital room.
He found Shelly in the visitor’s lounge. She was dressed in a formal business suit—probably came straight from work. She was holding a baby girl in her arms, trussed up in blue ribbons and a white frock.
“This must be Angie,” Ben said.
“Yeah. I just picked her up at day care. Isn’t she beautiful?” Angie rubbed her little fists in her eyes and peered sleepily at Ben. “Can we talk?”
“Sure, Shelly. What’s on your mind?”
“I just…wanted to thank you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I know you know.”
Ben took a paper cup from the water dispenser and poured himself a small drink. “Want to tell me about it? I promise it’ll remain confidential.”
She sighed, then pressed her baby against her chest. “I’ve been with the Apollo legal department for six years now.”
Ben was surprised. Judging from her position, he would’ve guessed she had been there a year, perhaps two.
“They always say corporations are the best places to work when you want to have a family as well as a legal career. Nine-to-five days, no billable hour demands. I didn’t want any special favors; I just wanted some common decency.” She inhaled sharply. “Common decency. Now there’s an oxymoron.
“I learned right off the bat that everything I’d been told about corporate legal staffs was a lie—at Apollo, anyway. The corporation worked its employees just as hard as the firms, maybe harder. Crichton always acted as if he owned me. And there was no outside client to prevent him from exercising complete control over his department—his private kingdom. He did anything he wanted. Crichton and the other men called me honey and sweet young thing. They asked if I was getting any and when I was going to start making babies—and if I wanted any help. If I complained, they said I didn’t know how to take a joke.